


cut us into pieces, break us down to the cell

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Happy Halloween, One Shot, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Werewolf!Marianne, at least partially
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 13:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Hilda finds out about a secret of Marianne's.





	cut us into pieces, break us down to the cell

It's the night of the second last day of the month – the ending of the Wyvern Moon, and it's dark inside Hilda's room. She looks out the window – the start of a full moon crests the clouds of the night sky. 

_ Spooky_**,** she thinks. 

It's the night before the day when the monastery celebrates a festival rather unexpected as compared to the rest of their regular programs – something involving carved pumpkins (grown from their very own greenhouse) and mythical folklore. All Hallow's Eve, if she remembers correctly.

(Naturally, the only reason Hilda's awake right now is because she's eagerly anticipating the costuming contests.)

She's thinking about finally going to sleep, having finished preparing for the day after, but suddenly there's a cry from the room adjacent – and _ normally _ she'd assume it was nothing, but to her horror she finds it sounds distinctly familiar. 

"_Marianne_," Hilda mutters, and quickly steps into the hallway to investigate, nerves alight. 

There's faint slivers of light seeping onto the carpet through the – wait, _ cracks in the room door? _

"_Hey!_" The gaps in the wood are too small to see through_. _ "Open up! It's me, Hilda!" 

She knocks on the door, suddenly afraid of its sturdiness – there's a creak on the fourth strike, and it startles her. 

The door opens slowly and there's a rather frazzled Marianne standing in the doorway. It looks, to Hilda at least, like she's just been in a fight. 

"Are you, uh…" Hilda frantically tries to think of words to say, "..._ alright?_"

"Er, I…" she stutters a little, and despite everything all Hilda wants is to rush up to her and hug her close, "My apologies. You should leave me be." Her hand moves shakily to the door knob.

"Not when –" Hilda starts a retort, but then her eyes widen and she takes hold of Marianne's raised hand, bringing her wrist up to look, "You're _hurt! _What the..."

Marianne's fingers twitch slightly – vague marks and scars score her knuckles, thin streams of fresh blood trickle through them. 

"Please, let go," she says, gently, "I – I don't want to hurt you."

"Look, no offense, but _ you? _I doubt you could even physically injure a fly ..."

"I made those cracks in the door and hurt myself on accident," Marianne replies quickly. "It's… not anything you'd –"

"You _ know _ you can tell me anything!" Hilda insists, "Just… what's going on?"

"It's a regular thing for me. It's just… today's is more…

"You should," she says, cutting herself off, "really, _ leave_."

"No, wait, _ okay_, let's just…" Hilda shakes her head in puzzlement. "Uh. I'll… _ come in _ and close the door and _ then –" _

Her words are cut short because suddenly there's a hand at her neck – the wind knocked out of her, herself pushed up against the far wall of the room, her left wrist pinned to the wood. Marianne snarls at her – and it sounds terribly unlike her, a horrific scratching of nails on a chalkboard. 

" – we can … figure... _ Whoa_," Hilda tries not to let her voice tremble, looking up at the figure seemingly towering over her, "Marianne, this is –"

The strength forcing her against the wall is surely inhuman; none of the axes she's ever swung can hope to compare. Marianne's eyes are wildly intense and a bright shade of yellow, a far cry from the gentle gaze Hilda so often smiles at – her teeth are fanged, sharp spikes unbefitting of her demeanour.

(Hilda finds that she's terrifically scared, and her heart twists because of all people, she can't bear to be frightened of her.)

The hand outstretched at her neck has morphed into a dark-furred appendage armed with sharp claws at its ends, not unlike a feline's talons. It pushes closer toward her skin –

"_Stop!_" she cries out, involuntarily, "_Please _–"

Realization crosses Marianne's eyes, and she steps back, strung high and nerve-wracked. Hilda backs up further against the wall, resisting the urge to assume a defensive stance. 

"...I-I'm sorry –_ " _

"_I,_" Hilda says, tentatively, still trying to regulate her breathing, "_think _we have a problem."

* * * 

The shutting of the doors to Marianne's room just makes it look more… _ enclosed_. It's amazingly bare, always has been, ever since Hilda first stepped into it. And for whatever reason there's already two chairs set upon the carpet – so once Hilda's calmed her down enough they sit, facing each other, knees almost touching. 

(Hilda thinks the two chairs are left over from their most recent tea party, and distracts herself with the notion.)

"I don't have much time," Marianne begins, quietly, "This… is the work of my Crest of the Beast."

There's the sheen of sweat on her brow and a tiredness in her eyes – she pauses a moment, biting her lip, "Please don't let this get out." 

"I won't," Hilda says, with a surprising amount of sincerity as compared to all the other times she's said that phrase. "You can trust me." 

(She attempts to ignore that all she can hear is their breathing, and that the only light source stems from the thin chandelier hanging above them.)

"So, then – is there any way to get rid of your… situation?" 

"It'll be automatically gone by … tomorrow morning, when the sun's up."

"How…" Hilda hesitates, "How far does it _ go _?" 

"Oh," Marianne raises her arm, the arm that's been transmogrified, "It doesn't go all the way. I think the most it goes is … ears, maybe, and claws. Perhaps other things. It's fortunate that it usually doesn't transform anything too visible, so I can still hide if need be."

"So basically," says Hilda, conflicted, "You're telling me you're a _ werewolf _. At least partially." 

"I…" Marianne looks to the side, uncertainly, eyes shadowed, "Maybe? Probably."

"_Oh_." 

(Hilda questions if she's a furry, or a masochist, or – Goddess forbid – _ both, _ for _ still _ falling for her.)

"Um. Well. I think the best course of action for now is to bandage you up. I'll go find some supplies." 

"I think you'd be better off leaving me alone… I'm evidently a danger to you."

"_No,_" Hilda snaps, annoyed despite herself, "I'm not doing that. Not when you're in this state!" 

"Then," Marianne reluctantly states, finally, "If you're fixed on going, you should bring back something silver."

"Silver?"

"It's what … we're weak to. It's effective against us. My bloodline, I mean."

Hilda falters at the implications, rests a hand on the doorknob, "I'll ...be back, okay?"

"If you insist..."

(And she leaves, but the words between them tug them closer together.)

* * * 

It is … _ empty_, in the room.

It's a cold, bleak atmosphere that Marianne never fully got used to. There have been _ hours _spent looking at the rafters and thinking about… what, exactly? Questioning her existence? Her ability to cause misfortune to anyone near her? 

She lifts both of her arms to examine them, their strength magnified through the changes, and wonders what it would be like to be slain by silver. Maybe with enough work the bloodline could be severed and _ no one _would have to suffer through the Crest again. 

Marianne leans back in her chair, contemplating the empty seat in front of her. Surely _ she's _ not far away – or could she have left her? She wouldn't blame her. 

No, there's another knock, and then a groan as the door is pushed open anyway. 

"I ..._ figured_," Hilda says, breathing hard, leaning against the doorframe, hands full, "you could be in trouble, in here, or something, so I came as fast as I…"

"W-Where did you get –" 

(It's not even an important question, but it helps to distract from the warmth inexplicably blooming in her.)

"Infirmary," she breathes, "Bandages, and all. Don't ask me how I got in there. _ Oh_, and I… got the axe. _ Silver_, axe." 

Hilda drags out an axe commonly used in their fights against bandits and thieves – it gleams in the soft light of the room's chandelier. "You asked for it, so I brought it along. It's mine, from the weapons rack. Made me… break a _ sweat_, Marianne."

"Hilda, you…" 

She isn't completely sure what to say. _ "You didn't have to rush_" or " _ I'm really sorry you had to do this for me"_ or "_Th__is is the most effort I've seen you put in since… the entire school year _–

"Um, thank you," she settles on, voice a whisper in the air – and the words _ for coming back _ hang unspoken. "I can't believe you'd …"

"I don't say this a lot, but you expect too little of me!" Hilda huffs, taking a seat, "And you're… clearly in need of help, so it's only right for me to provide it. Give me your hand – uh, or whatever it is, now." 

She gently dabs at the wound with a cloth and starts to prepare a bandage, pulling tightly. "I hope it isn't too conspicuous tomorrow."

"No, it's fine," Marianne says, examining it, "...I didn't know you were so skilled at this, Hilda."

"It's a really simple thing to learn," Hilda replies, "I've been doing it since I was little. My brother kept getting injured while training."

"He seems like a good person." 

"Yeah, he can be a little annoying with his letters and all, but…" Hilda looks at her up and down, glancing at the changes that have manifested on her, "I think he's the sort of person who would know what to do with … _ this._" 

"... Wait," Marianne says, thoughts forming in her head, "With this… To _ reverse _ this, you mean?"

"Yes, what else?" Hilda questions, tilting her head, "I'd rather you not continue to suffer after I go." 

"I could try to go to sleep."

"I… don't think you could, with your transformations and all." As if on cue the changes continue up Marianne's arm, causing fur to sprout, and she narrows her eyes in pain. 

(It's not unlike when Miklan started to turn into a demonic beast due to the Lance of Ruin, Hilda thinks with a shudder.)

"Maybe we could try something with the silver?" she suggests, "Do you think it would stop it?" 

Marianne considers it for a bit. "If it managed to… say, come into contact with my blood in some way…"

"We should try, at least," Hilda stresses, unfurling the bandage slowly, "And even if it doesn't do anything…"

"But really, there's no need to… if you help me with that, something bad could happen –"

"_No,_" the reply comes firmly and swiftly, "I'm doing it. And anyway, because you've suddenly gained super strength you'll hurt yourself on accident. I'm tired of repeating myself –"

"I'm sorry –"

"Ugh, _ no _, sorry, I didn't mean to say –" Hilda shakes her head, regretful, "Never mind, I'll get the axe." 

(A very ominous thing to announce, she concurs.)

She takes the axe from where it's leaning against the wall and brings it to the desk. Marianne's arm lays across it, still half-wrapped in bandages.

"You aren't suggesting I cut it off, are you?" Hilda jokes nervously, "I think that'd be too gory." 

"But you've torn so many people down in battle before."

"Well, it's _ you _I'm working with here. It's painful to hear you be hurt, you know?" 

"… I'll prepare a Heal spell and use the silver as a conduit." Marianne decides her run-ins with Linhardt at the library haven't been for naught after all. "It's possible it'll work if you just press the silver into the wound and contact my ...blood."

Hilda cringes and makes a face, but takes the axe anyway – the fear of making a mistake makes her hesitate, but she pushes on. 

Marianne winces and breathes in sharply – Hilda supports her with a hand on her shoulder. 

(To give the light magic the strength it requires, Marianne thinks of happy things. Like Dorte. Like the owls flying about the school. 

Like the fact that Hilda basically volunteered to help and support her in the dead of the night. _ Why would she? _)

The light of the magic flares sharper, larger at that last thought – the resulting brightness of the spell and the shine of the silver makes it hard to see what's happening, but after a while there's a sudden pop of magic. 

"It… worked?" 

(Hilda's amazingly surprised that something she had a large part in actually turned out pretty well – even if it _ was _ a minor task).

"It does… _ look _human…" Marianne concludes, examining the arm, lifting it off the table. "Feels more… normal."

Hilda finishes bandaging the arm, then looks her up and down. Her eyes have returned to their regular soft brown, and the fur's gone. The fangs stay, but she concludes they'll be gone by tomorrow – and if not, they'd make for a good costume element.

"Well," she beams, "Good job, team!" 

"Thank you for the help." The other girl speaks, weakly, "My head's clearer now as well." 

"It was nothing! And you did most of the actual work anyway…" She brushes her off. 

"I think it… worked, because _ you _ were there." 

"Hm?" Hilda looks at her closely. "_Me?" _

_ "I _ \- I don't know!" Marianne exclaims, suddenly flustered, "It's just a feeling. I've never managed to reverse it before. It's fortunate you were, because it really… felt like it was going to be difficult, this time around. Your presence was… very reassuring." 

Hilda waves it off, but mentally takes note of how cute Marianne looks for later. "I'm glad, really. Actually, I thought you'd asked me to bring the axe in case you turned against me, or something…" 

"You weren't scared?" 

"No," she says triumphantly before noticing the doubt on Marianne's face, "_Okay_, maybe I was, but I knew you wouldn't hurt me!" 

"..._ Why_?" The blue-haired girl shakes her head. "I don't understand. Why would you put in the effort to help me? Why would you associate and put trust in me at all? I'm… this Crest…"

"...It…" Hilda seems to be thinking more than she has ever made the effort to. "It's okay, Marianne." 

"..._ What's _ okay?"

"It's fine if you don't understand it yet," she says, seriously, "But you're definitely worth helping, and caring about. Your Crest and your burdens don't affect other people's opinions of you, at least not here.

"And for what it's worth –" Hilda smiles the sweetest she can, and mouths the words _ I love you._

_ Surely she does that to everyone_, Marianne thinks, rapidly, convincing herself she didn't misinterpret. _ But she isn't the type to blush easily. Then does this mean _–

"H-Hey, Marianne, are you there?" Hilda smirks wryly, in spite of it all, "Your ears are all red." 

"Huh– Oh, I'm sorry," Marianne says, frantic, "I-I was thinking of what to say." 

"It's alright," the other girl reassures, "you don't have to say anything."

"...Thank you, Hilda." 

Marianne looks out of the window, and the night seems even darker than before – but she feels _safe_.

"...It's getting late. You should go to sleep." The thought of her leaving is a little saddening, but she can't keep her too long or she fears Hilda will get bored.

"Are you chasing me _ out_?" Hilda pouts instead, jokingly, "Marianne, I really do enjoy my time here, you know." 

"... But –"

"Speaking of which!" Hilda derails into another subject so quickly that Marianne is a little bewildered, "Tomorrow's All Hallow's Eve! Are you going as anything?"

"_Going as_…?"

"Oh, come on, you're _ not _?" 

"I've never celebrated –" 

"We're going out early tomorrow to find you an outfit!" She declares, "We should at _ least _go as a pair! Consider it my compensation."

"What are you…" 

"I'll be a vampire," she says, "Fitting, isn't it? And you can be my werewolf! I'll make us matching accessories."

"_Y__our… _" Marianne considers it. Then she musters a gentle smile. "That's…that's fine by me." 

(Hilda takes the image, and the memory, and the fuzziness that comes with it – and she files it away into her mental trove for posterity.)

**Author's Note:**

> they're such a good combo and their post-timeskip unique dialogue broke my heart so i had to write something


End file.
